Snow Day
by pdljmpr6
Summary: Abby's got a hinky feeling about Tony's cough. But with Gibbs out on a case and the entire city snowed in, the responsibility of keeping Tony healthy - and alive- falls squarely on her shoulders. Abby/Tony friendship and Tony whump -Chapter 8 is REPOSTED
1. Abby's Mission

**A/N**: I should probably enroll in some kind of review rehab, because it's getting a little ridiculous. Anyway, been wanting to do an Abby/Tony friendship peice for a while, I think ever since 'Not Sick' cuz they were waaay too much fun in that one. And, since I've also been wanting to do a more or less Requiem tag, well, this was a given, wasn't it? Reviews are love, as always, and I love the love you love me with! -pj

**A/N2: **Obviously this is set BEFORE everything went to hell...

* * *

Gibbs hung up the phone but didn't look up immediately. He could feel McGee and Ziva's eyes on him, but a third pair of eyes felt conspicuously absent. Under the pretense of sipping his coffee he raised his head and glanced over at his senior field agent. Unaware that he was being watched, Tony made an uncomfortable face and touched his neck and Gibbs' gut sent up a flare.

"McGee, Ziva, gear up and pack for a few days. We're going to the USS Seahawk."

Automatically Tony also bent over to pick up his backpack and strap on his badge and gun, allowing the others to take over his usual duty of pestering his boss for details on the case.

Gibbs crossed the unit to stand in front of Tony's desk.

"No Tony, you stay."

Tony looked up, giving him an incredulous grin, "you're kidding, right boss?"

Gibbs just stared at him and Tony's face fell.

"But Boss-"

"Not a discussion Tony," he turned to follow McGee and Ziva to the elevator and Tony was right behind him, "The captain on the Seahawk is a notorious hardass and I need to be there to be sure he doesn't interfere with our investigation."

Tony quickly masked a wounded look, but Gibbs saw it anyway.

He took a step closer to the younger man and lowered his voice, "I need you here, Tony," he said, hoping it would soften the blow. Tony had an insatiable need to prove himself valuable and, though Gibbs tried not to stoke the fire, he did try to make sure it had enough material to burn.

"Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs!"

Both agents looked up and saw Abby approaching as quickly as she could in platform boots.

"Are you leaving?"

"For the Seahawk. Dead XO and an aircraft carrier full of suspects."

"But I need Tony," she said, and looked over at the man, "you're supposed to help me move furniture tomorrow."

Gibbs shrugged, "he's all yours Abbs. He's not coming."

She gave him a strange look at the same moment that Tony let out a quick dry cough. Her eyes widened and flew from Tony to Gibbs and he dipped his chin meaningfully.

Understanding what he didn't say, she nodded.

"Handle the case from this end, DiNozzo. I want a briefing in MTAC at 09:00 tomorrow," Gibbs said gruffly, as if there had been no silent exchange.

Tony nodded once and Abby stood beside him as they watched the rest of the team pile onto the elevator.

"Hey Probie, don't forget your barfbag."

---

Once Gibbs was inside the elevator he grit his teeth and tightened his grip on his cup almost to the point of crushing it. He was not a fan of lying straight to Tony's face.

It was easy enough to justify sending Ziva, she needed more experience investigating aboard deployed ships, and McGee had more experience than Ziva so she could follow his lead. But the part about dealing with the captain was bullshit and he was sure Tony knew it. Ziva deal with him, though probably not without inflicting bodily harm, and McGee had certainly grown himself a backbone in the past couple of years but feeding him to the sharks probably wasn't a good idea. Still, Tony had a way of getting what he wanted, especially when it related to an investigation. He could have handled the captain.

No. The real reason he wanted Tony to stay behind was one he would prefer not to voice. Ever.

Gibbs eyesight may not have been the best, but he would have had to have been blind not to notice the way the younger man winced whenever he coughed and that he had been touching and rubbing his throat as if it was sore.

Between that and the harsh winter they were having, Gibbs' gut was telling him the _last _place his senior field agent needed to be was in the confined quarters of an aircraft character during flu season.

"You noticed the coughing too, Gibbs?" Ziva asked quietly from behind his right shoulder.

He turned to look at her and saw both his junior agents giving him grave, knowing looks. He didn't respond. Tony was humiliated enough with being left behind; he didn't need them all talking about him when he wasn't there, worrying like he was some defenseless kid.

Without responding, he turned back around, but allowed himself a small glimmer of satisfaction at the knowledge that Ziva and McGee were not as clueless as they let on, but had the good sense enough not to say anything to Tony. The elevator doors opened and the three stepped out.

"Let's roll."

---

Abby stood in the shadows on the edge of the bullpen watching Tony. If he'd wanted to, he would have seen her lurking there behind the filing cabinets, but his eyes were closed as he bent his head forward, elbows on his desk, as he massaged his temples and winced. She bit her lip.

"Everything alright, Abby?"

She squeaked and jumped.

"Agent Marcum," she glanced back over at Tony, but he didn't seem to have heard her, "I'm, um, just…making sure everything's…ship shape. You know, up here. Because I already checked…down there. In my lab…where I work."

Marcum frowned slightly and then shrugged. No one questioned Abby. Mostly because she had Team Gibbs in her back pocket, and partly because it wouldn't do much good anyway.

"Okay then," he said hesitantly and stepped past her, "carry on."

"Aye Aye," she gave a Pirates of the Carribean-esque salute and watched the other agent go down the hall toward Interrogation before she returned her gaze to Tony. He was back to leaning far over his report and she tried to tell herself the swallow, sunken look of his face was just because of the bad lighting from his desk lamp, but wasn't quite sure she was convinced.

She knew Tony was confused and perhaps a little bit hurt that Gibbs had left him behind. Of course, he was too much of a professional to say so and too much of a tough guy to think it might be for his own good. But she knew.

And she also knew he would work himself into the ground while they were gone, trying to prove his value to someone who'd never actually doubted it in the first place.

Which was where she came in.

Abby understood perfectly the mission Gibbs had given her and she fully intended to complete it.

Straightening, she stepped out of the shadows and approached Tony's desk in a subdued manner, appropriate for the late hour, and came to stand just within the circle of light from his lamp.

"Hey Tony."

He glanced up briefly from his paperwork, "hey Abbs. You're here late."

She shrugged and picked up the Mighty Mouse staples from his desk, "not really. No later than you, anyway." She replaced the stapler and picked up a couple of pens to twirl in her fingers.

"Everything alright Abbs?" he asked, watching as she replaced the pens and began to fidget with his stack of post-its.

"Um…yeah…why would you ask that?"

Tony raised an eyebrow, still leaning on his desk heavily and looked up at her with tired eyes, "because you won't look at me and the only thing on my desk you haven't messed with is my computer monitor."

Abby promptly froze her movements but didn't look at him, "sorry."

Hiding a grimace at the movement, he stood and rounded the desk, "what is it Abbs?"

She scrunched up her face in a slight frown, "I was just wondering if you could maybe walk me out?" she continued all in one breath, "it's just that ever since Michael was able to get on the navy yard that time I haven't been able to walk in the parking lot alone and Gibbs usually walks with me but since he's not here…"

It wasn't really a lie, Gibbs did always walks out with her but if he wasn't there she usually just asked one of the security guards to do it.

"Of course I will, Abby. All you had to do was ask."

She smiled and bounced slightly while she waited for him to grab his backpack and coat from the back of the chair. He decided he could finish up on his paperwork tomorrow, since he already felt like he'd been hit by a truck and had been in the middle of reading the same paragraph for the eighth time when Abby walked up.

Turning off the light, he put his hand at her back and guided her toward the elevator. Abby turned to face the lift doors immediately, hoping to hide a self-satisfied smirk.

_Phase One of Mission: Keep Tony healthy - Complete_

"Thanks Tony," she smiled at him, "you're the greatest."

"This, I know."

_TBC - I just love Abby and Tony. SOOOO much._


	2. Just a Cough

**A/N**: YAY!!! I mean, I got a pretty substantial number of reviews last time, which was ABSOFREAKINLUTELY AWESOME, but the alerts! Holy Canolies! Everybody and their brother's dog has this fic on alert. YAY US!! Thanks so much for your support everyone, I hope you continue to enjoy! -pj

* * *

After the third nightmare had her springing up from the bed in a cold sweat, Abby resigned herself to the fact that she wouldn't get any more sleep that night unless she went over to his house and saw for herself that Tony was fine.

So, she decided that was what she would do.

_In and out. No heroics. Go in and check on him, make sure he has tissues and a glass of water. He'll probably need those...Maybe feed the fish 'cause he always forgets to do that…poor fish…and then leave. That's it._

She nodded to herself to confirm her plans as she silently picked the lock. She smiled triumphantly when the sound of the tumbler fell into place and swung the door open, only to be stopped dead at the sight of a SIG pointed in her face.

"Abby," Tony exclaimed, immediately pointing the gun away, "what are you doing?"

She stood frozen, her hands still on the doorknob, her eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, "um…picking the lock on your apartment door."

Tony sighed, dropping his arms fully to his sides, "let me rephrase that. What are you doing _here?_"

She bit her lip. Seeing that the truth was her only option, she shrugged one shoulder.

"I was just gonna check on you really quick 'cause I got a hinky feeling and I kept having nightmares and I knew I wasn't gonna get any more sleep tonight until I came over here to see you for myself. Don't be mad." She said, wincing slightly as she finished.

"I'm not mad, Abs, although next time a call would be nice so I don't accidentally blow your head off while you commit B&E," Tony chastised lightly. He turned to put his spare weapon up onto the top shelf of the coat closet, "why wouldn't I be okay?"

"I told you Tony, I got a hinky feeling," she said again, stepping into the apartment. Tony went behind her to shut the door that she'd left standing open. Her short, poofy coat drowned her in black and was in sharp contrast to her pale face, now without makeup. She raised an eyebrow at him, "It might have something to do with that cough you've been trying to hide from everyone."

Tony sighed. He'd almost forgotten about that, but now that she'd said something, the persistent tickle at the back of his throat was back, demanding that he satisfy it with deep, wet sounding, entirely too familiar feeling, coughs.

"It's just a cough Abbs."

"You always say that."

He heard the sincere distress in her tone and stepped forward, resting his hands on her arms, "and have I ever been wrong before?"

She frowned, "in general or about this specifically?" seeing that Tony was not going to bite she pursed her lips, "okay, no."

"So why would this time be any different?"

_Because Gibbs' gut says so. _She just shrugged and Tony smiled.

"Okay, maybe I was overreacting," _possible, but unlikely, _"but would it be okay if I stayed here for a while with you anyway?"

Tony shrugged, "sure. I was just about to pop in a movie." He moved toward his kitchen and pulled open the fridge.

"Anthony DiNozzo," Abby scolded, shrugging out of her coat to reveal scull and crossbones pajama pants and a black hoodie underneath, "you should be sleeping at this hour."

He held up a beer and she nodded so he got out another, "says the woman who trekked across town to break into my apartment at 3am."

She smiled sheepishly, accepting the drink and dropping onto the couch, "point taken. So what are we going to watch?"

"Guys and Dolls. Go," he pointed at her and her eyes fell shut. She reached up to touch her temple, easily falling into their made up game.

"Frank Sinatra, Marlon Brando, Jean Simmons and Vivian Blaine."

"Very good," he said looking impressed. He pushed the DVD into the player and came to join her on the couch, "bonus points for the year and production company," he challenged.

She took a sip of her beer and pulled her feet up onto the couch to lean against him, "1955, MGM."

Tony nodded approvingly and started to say something but the air caught in his chest and he jerked slightly and brought a hand up to his mouth. The horrible coughing and hacking that followed made Abby's heart freeze in her chest.

"I'll make a movie buff out of you yet," he gasped a few seconds later, his face red from effort.

She didn't smile and didn't try to hide the shadows in her eyes.

"Just a cough, huh?"

Tony glanced over at her and wasn't entirely surprised to see her eyes shining and her face pissed.

"I'm fine."

"You can stop saying that," she said, neither her voice nor her face changing, "it's not like I believe it."

Tony watched her carefully for a moment and raised his eyebrows, "I'm _fine_."

She dropped her eyes from his and Tony forced his face to remain neutral but couldn't really blame her for not believing him. He didn't really believe himself. But he had to. He had a job to do and no room to be sick.

Even if it was just a cough.

---

Tony didn't really notice Abby hanging around the next morning. Falling asleep on the couch meant he'd neglected to set an alarm clock so after the tingling in his left arm, which had fallen asleep under Abby, woke him, he'd spent most of his time rushing around trying to make up for the time he'd lost. Somehow he just _knew _Gibbs would know if he came in late.

He smelled coffee brewing in the kitchen, which reminded him that Abby was still there and called out to her.

"Pour me a cup, will ya Abbs?"

There was a mumbled non answer and he rolled his eyes. He was sure she would, but she wouldn't be happy about it. She didn't like the fact that he was going to work at all.

But, if there was one thing he knew about NCIS, it was that criminals didn't take the day off just because he didn't feel well. So, he popped a couple of aspirin, downed a swallow or two of cold medicine he kept in the bathroom for just such an occasion and hoped the coughing would subside long enough for his headache to go away and for him to drink his coffee.

After tightening his tie and scrutinizing his overly pale complexion in the mirror, he gave a slight 'this is as good as it's gonna get' shrug and turned swiftly toward the door, almost ramming into Abby and her steaming cup of coffee in the process.

"Abbs!" He exclaimed, barely dodging her.

She made no move to apologize and sipped it slowly. She raised an eyebrow, "you look like crap."

He sighed, giving her a warning glare as he smoothed his tie self-consciously. Apparently she was still pissed.

"Gee thanks. Now move." She had herself wedged into the doorway of his bedroom, not allowing him to pass so he could get his coffee and leave, "please," he added as an afterthought.

"One condition," she said, her arms crossed challengingly.

"What?" he asked, sure he would regret it.

"You go in, do your video conference with Gibbs, get your evidence, then you come down to the lab and take a nap."

"A nap? Abby I'm not five -"

"Either that, or I call ducky and he'll call Gibbs and you'll be on sick leave before you can say 'macho macho man'."

"That's blackmail!"

"Actually it's extortion."

He paused and frowned, "no, it's blackmail."

Abby wrinkled her forehead in thought and then shrugged, "Ok fine. Whatever. We got a deal?"

Tony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, but knew there was no other option.

"Fine. Deal."

Abby grinned at him and Tony returned the smile sarcastically. Then, placing his hands on her shoulders, he physically moved her asie and stepped around her to make his way toward the kitchen. Abby turned and followed him down the hall but instead went to the living room.

She turned on the television and made herself comfortable while Tony poured himself a steaming hot cup of black coffee, the stuff he usually kept around for Gibbs' unexpected visits, hoping it would help eliminate the uncomfortable gritty feeling in his eyes.

"Hey Abby? This job I'm rushing out the door not to be late for? It's your job too," he said, wrapping his hands around the mug and ignoring the slight twinge at the base of his neck that told him the asprin had not yet taken effect.

Abby seemed to be ignoring him as she frowned at something on the television screen.

"What's going on?"

Instead of answering she hopped up from her seat and flew to the window, whipping the vertical blinds open and flooding the room in too bright light.

"Argh!" Tony winced and closed his eyes, turning his face away from the light, which had turned his slight twinge into full blown throbbing, "What the hell, Abbs?"

"Um, Tony," she turned back to look at him, seemingly unaware of his discomfort, "I don't think you're going to work today."

"Aw, c'mon Abby I already agreed to your terms-"

"No, Tony, I don't think anybody's going to work today," she pointed at the television screen and he turned to follow her gaze. She had the tv set to the local news channel and they were currently giving the weather. Weather which consisted of a huge mass of white and blue that covered nearly the entire east coast.

"Remember that big winter storm they were predicting?" Abby said after a moment, "it's here."

_TBC  
_


	3. Snowed Inn

**A/N**: Another wonderful wave of reviews, I love love love it. Haha, and it was pointed out to me that the alerts and reviews don't even count the people who are merely watching out for this story without putting it on alert, so I guess that means everyone and their brother's dog and their neighbor's canary is reading this fic (LOL **Verdad-y-Vida**). YAY US!! I'm so stoked by how much you guys like this, enjoy! -pj

* * *

Tony narrowed his eyes at her and slowly put down the coffee mug.

"What do you mean 'it's here'?"

Abby gave him an almost apologetic look and then stepped back and pointed at the large window, "See for yourself."

Half a moment later Tony was standing at the window, peeking outside as if afraid to see what pushing aside the curtains might reveal.

Everything was coated in white. And not just a little bit. At least a foot and a half of snow had fallen between the night before and that morning. And it hadn't quit yet, it looked as if someone had turned a snow globe with DC inside upside down and shaken. Hard.

"The whole city is practically shut down."

He heard Abby from behind him and turned back to see her standing in front of the television.

Tony bit his bottom lip and contemplated a moment. Tilting his head to one side, he thought of his options. On the one hand, the city was a mess, he felt like crap, visibility on the roads was zero, the LEOs wanted everyone to stay home because of downed power lines and power outages, oh, and he felt like crap. He tilted it to the other side. He also had a video conference with Gibbs at 0800 and there was a dead XO that needed justice.

That decided it.

He turned and went back through the living room, paused at the kitchen counter to quickly top off his coffee. His first cup was barely touched but it had soothed the uncomfortable tickle at the back of his throat and the very thought of the cold outside gave him shivers from his spine to the tips of his fingers and toes.

"Tony? What are you-?"

Tony made a bee-line for the door. But Abby moved quickly even in her boots, so in bare feet and against Tony's weakened state, she was like lightning.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" She demanded, slipping herself in between Tony and the door.

"To work, Abbs," he said tiredly, shifting his backpack on his shoulder, it seemed to be cutting into every knot he had.

"Um…let me think...no," she said in a way that made him think she hadn't had to consider at all, "Tony it's like 'Day After Tomorrow' the Sequel out there. You can't drive in that."

"I'll be fine," he said, trying to sidestep her. She bobbed and weaved to match him and crossed her arms, staring up looking defiant and pissed. Again.

"If I hear that word from you _one more time_ I swear I won't be held responsible for what I do to you," she said, narrowing her eyes in a way that said she wanted him to remember she could murder him and leave no evidence behind.

"Look, Abbs, I have a job to do, alright?" he snapped, his patience all but worn out. He reached up to rub his burning eyes, wondering who'd turned the heat in his apartment up so high.

Abby blinked at him, her tough façade fading momentarily. Tony was hardly ever short with her. But in an instant it was back, almost fiercer than before, his unusually short temper only fueling her belief that he felt much worse than he wanted to admit.

"And so do I, tough guy, and right now, it consists of keeping you from causing a 30 car pile-up on the freeway and then dying of hypothermia while you wait for help to arrive."

Tony opened his eyes and peeked through his fingers at her, the surprise she'd worn a moment before now donned his face. He wasn't used to her sounding so serious. So anxious.

About him.

"Abby I-" he started but whatever argument, or apology, he'd been about to make was lost in a string of wet coughs and he reached out to brace himself against the wall. Abby's anger immediately dissipated and she stepped under his arm and helped him back towards the kitchen. Tony dropped heavily on one of the tall stools that sat at the bar.

She waited until he had his breath back and then dipped her chin.

"No arguments, Tony. You're going to go back in there," she thrust her hand toward the hallway and pointed at his bedroom, "and getting some sleep."

He dropped his bag on the floor, and Abby saw it as the sign of defeat that it was.

"Fine. I'll stay, but I don't need sleep, I need to be working on the case," Abby rolled her eyes and Tony pretended not to see, "can you get me into the criminal databases at NCIS so I can run backgrounds and call records?"

She stared at him for a moment, trying to decide if she would do as he asked. Finally she dropped her arms and shrugged, "fine. But on one condition."

He groaned and it made him cough twice, provoking his headache once more, "more conditions?"

"The other doesn't count now, you're not going to NCIS - but actually it's the same condition." She added after a pause.

"A nap after my video conference?"

"Yup," she nodded, "I'll message McGee and you can do your conference via webcam, okay?"

Tony reached up and rubbed his forehead, he'd had enough negotiations for one day.

"Yeah. Fine."

Abby grinned brightly at him and Tony slowly got up and, apparently abandoning all pretense of feeling 'fine', began to trudge back down the hallway to his bedroom, mumbling that he was going to change out of his suit.

Once his back was turned Abby allowed her smile to fall away and bit her lip. She stared at his shut his door for several moments. She couldn't remember being so worried about someone in a long time. Probably not since Gibbs was blown up and lost his memory. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, pushing the worry to the back of her mind. Right now she had a web conference to set up, and she would feel better after talking to Gibbs anyway.

A minute later she opened her eyes again and frowned. Hands on her hips, she scanned the living room and kitchen as she turned in a slow circle.

"So, if I were Tony's laptop, where would I be?"

---

"Abby?" McGee frowned at his computer screen when the unexpected visage of his pigtailed friend appeared. He lanced briefly at Ziva who was sitting cross legged on her bunk reading the file and then Gibbs who immediatly stood from the desk that had been brought into their barracks/NCIS headquarters and approached.

"What are you doing on Tony's laptop?" McGee asked, confused.

Abby's grin just widened but she didn't respond, prefering to allow his thoughts to run wild.

"Hi Gibbs," she waved.

Gibbs had positioned himself over McGee's shoulder and both had their attention fixed on the two-inch square of 'Abby' on the screen.

"Where are you, Abbs?" Gibbs asked.

"Tony's house," she said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. McGee's brow knitted and Gibbs tilted his head.

"Why?"

Abby's eyebrows flew up, "Gibbs, it's the Winter Apocalypse out here. We got 18 inches of snow last night and they're expecting that to double by this evening. It's a blizzard outside and the city is completely shut down. Thankfully we've still got power, but who knows how long that'll last. They think the storm will hover over the East Coast for another day or so and-"

"Yeah, I know Abbs," Gibbs interrupted smoothly.

Her thoughts sufficiently disrupted, she paused, "you do? How?"

Gibbs sighed long-sufferingly and McGee took it as his queue to step in, "they've grounded all flights, Abbs, the storm's coming right for us."

"Oh. Right." She nodded and then continued, hand gestures flying, "well I couldn't sleep last night and I came to check on Tony 'cause I had a hinky feeling and we woke up this morning to a winter wonderland on steroids," She bit her lip, some of her effervescence fizzling away, "I wouldn't let Tony drive to NCIS. I think he's mad at me."

"You did the right thing, Abbs," he said immediately, then, "didn't she DiNozzo?"

Out of nowhere Tony appeared beside Abby and reached out to turn the laptop toward him, revealing a pale, slightly disheveled version of himself.

"That's right Boss," he admitted, his voice a little bit lower and softer than usual. Upon hearing him Abby squealed and her arms appeared on screen as she wrapped Tony in a hug.

"Abby knows best, Tony," she said, ruffling his hair a bit.

"How you feeling, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked quietly, and everyone froze. The quiet concern in his voice resounding loud and clear to all of them. From McGee who sat below him, Ziva who had come to join them at the computer when she heard Tony's voice and was standing at his other elbow, to Abby somewhere off screen.

Tony licked his lips, not answering as quickly as Gibbs had thought he would. No, Tony seemed to really be thinking about how to answer, and Gibbs was almost curious to see what he would say.

There was the standard 'I'm fine, Boss', which meant he wasn't, but he could handle it. The always classic 'never felt better' which meant he was probably about to fall over and should have taken the sick leave he was offered or the much more common 'I think I'm bleeding out and I'll probably die of a bacterial infection', which meant he'd given himself a paper cut.

But the answer he got was none of the old standbys Gibbs was expecting.

Tony glanced briefly to his right, seemingly deciding something, and then looked back at the computer.

"I'm in good hands, Boss. I'll be okay."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, processing the information.

"Honest question deserves an honest answer," Tony answered his quizzical look and then cleared his throat to mask a few rattling coughs.

Ziva and McGee exchanged a glance, but said nothing, and Tony pretended not to notice, "So Ziva, how many times have you gotten lost on your way to the head?"

---

The team proceeded to fall back on old habits as they exchanged information and were able to quickly compile a list of suspects for Gibbs and the others to check out.

"We'll contact you at 18:00 with any news," McGee said.

"Sounds good, Probie, see you then," Tony reached forward to shut down his computer when Gibbs appeared on screen again.

"DiNozzo."

"Boss?"

"Get some sleep."

A smile kicked up the corner of his mouth, "Miss you too, Boss."

Gibbs gave him a wry smile and started to reach forward to disconnect the feed when Abby dove across Tony's lap and waved.

"Bye guys! Love ya, be safe," she called, the screen going blank as she finished. She sat back again, still staring at the computer where her friends had been a moment before. It felt oddly empty in the apartment now that they were gone.

She turned to Tony, who was rubbing his face again, looking even more tired than before. He couldn't remember when talking had ever taken so much out of him before.

On second thought though, he could.

"You knew all along why Gibbs made you stay, didn't you?" It wasn't an accusation, merely a statement of fact.

Tony froze briefly and then let his hands drop into his lap, turning slowly to face his friend, "if you mean did I notice the looks Ziva kept giving me like she thought I was gonna drop dead right there in the Squad room? Or that McGee has taken to leaving fresh tea and cough drops on my desk when he thinks I'm not around? Or that Palmer keeps trying to trick me into the x-ray machine and that Gibbs left you with the assignment of being my caretaker while he's gone? Then yeah. I knew."

Abby gave him a soft look and reached for his hand, "we're just worried about you Tony."

He shook his head, turning an irritated look at the blank computer, "it's just a cough Abby. It doesn't sound so great, it doesn't feel too great, but it happens," he shrugged, not looking at her, "I had the plague. What else is new?"

She frowned, her heart breaking at the sound of nonchalance in his voice. As if his life wasn't worth worrying about, "you mean this has happened before?" she closed her eyes, "you didn't go to the hospital then either, did you?"

He gave her a weak imitation of his usual cocky grin, "Abbs, if I went to the ER for every bump or bruise or," he pressed a hand to his chest as a handful of rough coughs interrupted and groaned at the way it irritated his now raw throat, "or cough I had, I would have to move in."

Abby frowned in reward for his joke and reached out to take his hand, curling her legs up underneath her. Having nothing to say and no energy to say it, she scooted closer and, pulling his hand into her lap, she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Just promise you won't leave me, Tony." She said quietly, and she felt his muscles tense up beside her.

Tony took a deep breath to relax and squeezed their entwined hands, "I promise, Abbs."

_TBC  
_


	4. From Bad to Worse

**A/N**: Oh lovely day! An update! This chap is slightly more on the angsty side, and please forgive me if it feels redundant, I wanted to show the seriousness of the situation so let me know how you think I did. The next chap will be a little bit more of the banter and whatnot that everybody (including me) loves. **Verdad-y-Vida** _glad you liked! Haha, it just seems like a Tony think to do/say_. **twomoms**_your wish is my command. lol._ Enjoy! -pj

* * *

Tony had allowed Abby to 'hack' their systems at NCIS so he could run backgrounds nd bank records on the main suspects of their investigations, and then shooed her, in the most polite and Tony manner, to the bathroom to change and for a shower.

Abby couldn't help the slightly maniac delight she got by being given carte blanche to sift through Tony's clothes. There were many NCIS t-shirts and several from his college, but she couldn't really see herself wearing any of those. She rummaged a little bit more and found a blue tee with white writing that suited her just fine.

_Federal Agents do it in the Field._ She grinned and shook her head, pulling the soft, well worn fabric over her head. She couldn't think of where Tony would have gotten such a shirt, but it didn't surprise her one bit that he had.

For the bottoms she knew enough about Men's organization to know to go to the bottom drawers, mostly she found jeans and khakis there and a select few sets of cargos, all folded neatly by the maid no doubt, but amongst them, at the bottom of the heap, she happened upon a pair of grey sweatpants that, when she rolled them up at the ankles and tightened the drawstring considerably, just barely fit her.

She admired her…eclectic look in the mirror for a moment before starting down the hall, trying to comb her hair, still wet from her shower, into some semblance of order in a low ponytail.

"Hey Tony I-" she began, but stopped short at the sound of snores coming from the couch. She turned to look and, sure enough, Tony's head was flopped back against the back of the couch, his mouth wide open in slumber.

She smiled softly, "oh Tony," she said to herself and, after some finagling, was able to work him down into a more comfortable position across the couch, complete with a pillow and blanket from his bedroom. She allowed a small frown to cross her face upon feeling the warmth of his skin, even through his clothes. But, when she was unable to locate a thermometer in the medicine cabinet (which was also almost completely lacking anything even remotely resembling 'medicine') settled for providing him with a box of kleenex from the bedside table and a glass of water.

Feeling warm and fuzzy and positively maternal, she ran off to the kitchen to see if she could find some chicken soup or the like, and frowned again when she found most of the kitchen cabinets to be in the same condition as the medicine cabinet. Only the door beside the sink had a meager contents of three plain white dinner plates, all chipped, a half dozen shot glasses from different places, some she recognized, some she didn't, and four drinking glasses with hard water stains. She also came across some plastic cereal bowls and a kid's sippy cup (she'd have to ask him about that later).

_Field trip to the JCPenny home store for you and me asap, DiNozzo,_ she thought, pulling out one of the cereal bowls and a pot from the drawer under the oven. She lit the gas stove with the matches she found in the silverware drawer, and started cooking the soup. Her ears perked up to the sound of coughing coming from the next room and she froze, listening intently. When it didn't immediately stop, her entire body tensed before she flew from the room.

Tony awoke, not really remembering having fallen asleep, and to the realization that he couldn't breathe. Along with that came awareness of coughing from somewhere nearby and, by the time he could open his eyes, he knew the two were related. He clutched his chest in a desperate attempt to get a hold of oxygen and squeezed his eyes shut against the spots that kept dancing in front of them.

"Easy Tony, easy," he thought he heard a voice say, but his head was pounding and his eyes were watering too much for him to make sense of it. He felt the sweetness of air tickle the insides of his lungs breifly, but it was too short and too distant. Not nearly enough to satisfy the over-powering craving he suddenly had for it. Cold sweat trickled across his brow and down his back but the only sensation he really understood in that moment was his need for oxygen and the fact that there just wasn't enough.

That and someone shouting in his ear.

The sharpness of the voice startled him and he gasped, sitting up, too quickly, while trying to get bearings on his surroundings. It almost started his coughing fit all over again and set him partially off balance. His eyes couldn't focus and his head was spinning, but when he felt hands reach out to steady him he flinched back, still unsure as to whether or not he was in danger. Why was it that he couldn't breathe? Did it have anything to do with the shouting voice? Was Gibbs there? Was he hurt too?

"Tony! Tony can you hear me?" Abby didn't mean to yell, but he'd not even acknowledged her since he'd woken. Not that she expected him to recite a soliloquy, but the wet, urgent coughs had died down and he hadn't even glanced at her, or fed her his 'I'm fine' routine. It was like he didn't realize she was there. Her eyes widened when he flinched away from her touch and she jumped back in response, "Tony?" she squeaked.

After a few agonizing minutes he turned to look at her and their green eyes locked. Abby had her legs pulled up to her chest as she sat beside him on the couch, biting her lip relentlessly.

"Tony?" she said again, her voice still too high and soft to sound right. Finally, his eyes cleared and he blinked hard to clear the haze.

"Abbs," He said, his voice gruff and he rubbed at his face.

She took a shaky breath and scooted closer to him, "Tony," she paused and waited until he looked at her again, "what was that?" She'd never seen Tony look like that before. Like he didn't know her. Didn't know himself.

He gave a small shrug and looked away again, "Nothing Abbs," no need for Abby to know that for a split second he couldn't tell if he was on his couch or lying in a pool of blood and urine on a cement floor in the warehouse district, "déjà vu or something." Yeah. He could call it that.

"Déjà vu is when you think you've done something before," she said quietly, still wrapped around herself and still watching him like a hawk.

"Well," he said, sounding even more tired than before and pushing haunting images out of his head, "this feels familiar." He closed his eyes and then whipped them open again. He could've sworn the lights flickered blue in his living room.

"For me too," she said softly, pushing back memories of Tony's time in the hospital during the whole fiasco with the plague. They were weeks she did not like to swell on, though it seemed fate was bent on their repeating them.

They were enveloped in the silence of the snowstorm outside for a moment, and it was in that moment of silence that the coughs Tony had suppressed earlier suddenly broke forth, he moaned at the pressure it put against his temple and eyes. And groped for the glass of water on the coffee table to soothe his raw throat. Abby reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Tony, we've gotta call Dr. Pitt."

"No," Tony gasped around his swallow, "It'll be okay."

"Tony you can hardly breathe," she snapped, though the sharpness of her words were set off by the worry that overflowed in them, "please."

"Abby if I go into the hospital again Vance'll have me on desk duty until," he coughed and screwed his eyes shut until he could speak normally again, "until I need a walker to get around the squad room."

"I don't care," she said flatly. He turned to look down at her, Abby was now wrapped around his right arm, "it'd be better than having to attend your funeral."

Tony honestly wished he had a comeback to that. And maybe if Abby had looked angry instead of scared, he would have. Instead he turned away, absently rubbing his aching chest as he glanced at the television.

"Well, either way, doesn't look like we're going anywhere in this mess."

Abby turned to follow his gaze to the TV just in time to see the news flash a picture of an ambulance that had slid off the road into a ditch, it lights still flashing.

_TBC  
_


	5. His Guardian Abby

**A/N**: You know what? There aren't nearly enough suggestive names for poker games. lol. Enjoy! -pj

* * *

Abby spent the rest of the afternoon praying to a god she wasn't sure she always believed in, that Tony would survive until she could get him some real help. His temperature fluctuated violently, between drinking cool soda and cracking quiet jokes, to mumbling incoherently as she rubbed an ice cold wash cloth across his forehead and chest.

It was during one of the reprieve moments, when he was feeling a little bit better, that things took a turn for the…interesting.

"Great flick," Tony muttered and Abby 'hmmd' in response, keeping up her repetitive soothing motion of stroking his hair with the palm of her hand. The blinds were drawn to keep out as much light as possible since it bothered Tony's headache and Abby didn't really mind, the whiteout of snow blocked his apartment's mediocre view anyway. They silently watched the credits roll for a few minutes.

"What time is it?" Abby asked suddenly, and glanced around the room.

Tony, who's eyes had drifted shut, opened them again and tried to shrug, but the command didn't quite reach his shoulders from his brain.

"Do you have a clock?" She asked, craning her neck to try and spot a timekeeping device anywhere in the room. Not even the digital display on the DVD player was set right.

"'m phone." Tony mumbled and Abby, taking the hint, gently moved his head off her lap and went in search of their cell phones. Tony in his half-asleep state, tried to track her movements around the room as she rummaged through discarded clothing, dirty dishes, piles of dvds and his backpack in search of either cell phone. His ears immediately perked up, though, at her next words.

"Uh-oh."

"What?" Tony turned so he was looking at her, albeit sideways from his position on his back. She was frowning down at her hands.

Abby pursed her lips and reluctantly turned to face him, "neither you or I have any service. The storm must have knocked out a couple of cell towers."

Tony sighed. "Lets hope the power doesn't go-"

"Don't say that!" She jumped forward to press against his lips with one finger, muffling the rest of his sentence, "You'll jinx us!"

She raised a threatening eyebrow and removed her hand.

"Sorry," he muttered, shifting on the couch as his muscles began to ache and the slight movement exhausted him and he clenched his teeth in frustration. He was never a marathon athlete, but he at least used to be able to move around the living room without breaking a sweat. His irritation was short lived, though, as he had to sit still for a few minutes, focusing on pulling in breaths that seemed far too difficult to keep coming. Even with his eyes closed he could tell Abby was pacing, "I'm fine, Abbs." He assured her, glancing slowly in her direction. He already knew what was causing her anxiety.

"Fine? You're _fine_? Tony need I remind you that you can hardly breath? You're turning blue! That is not _fine_."

"Blue," he said to himself, and let his eyes shut again. She frowned when she realized he was laughing.

"What's so funny?"

The laugh turned quickly to a cough and she waited, her stomach turning to knots, for him to get his breath back.

"Blue is funny," he gasped, giving her a tired smile that was a far cry from the charming one he'd intended, "we should have blue lights. Wouldn't want you to catch whatever I've got."

"I don't think bad luck is contagious Tony," she muttered, getting back to her pacing.

"Oh, that hurt."

She smiled at his feigned hurt expression and then glanced back at her phone, lying abandoned on the coffee table beside reheated pizza crusts. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Gibbs must be going crazy right now."

Tony gave her a questioning look as he reached for a bottle of warming sprite.

"You know how he is. He _always _knows when one of us is in trouble. His gut. And with the storm, the phones being down and the cough you had before he left," she shook her head as if there was no need for her to finish the thought.

Tony furrowed his brow and swallowed half the bottle of soda before responding.

"You're right," he said after a moment, "he's probably completely flipped."

Abby nodded but before she could respond, the room suddenly went black. At first tony thought he'd passed out, but the fact that he was still self-aware and could hear Abby's startled squeak, confirmed he wasn't.

"Look what you did, DiNozzo. I told you not to say it."

Tony could feel her glare though the pitch-black darkness, "but I didn't-"

"Perhaps not, but you _thought _it."

Tony kept his mouth shut, because he had at that. He waited a moment, his equilibrium too far off to try and move and too far gone to even think about standing, but he could hear Abby shifting in the darkness, and then a short, frustrated sigh.

At least he knew he didn't have to worry about her cowering beside him because of monsters and boogiemen.

Knowing Abby, if she found any, she'd likely invite them over for dinner and make friends with them on Facebook.

"You got any candles in this place?" she said after a moment and he tilted his head at the sound of a thump followed by a very un-ladylike curse.

"Of course," he said, "some girls like mood lighting." He didn't hear Abby's retort and swallowed hard against a tickle in his throat, "hall closet, top shelf. Matches there too."

There was some movement and another thump. "You alright, Abbs?"

"Yeah, just _fine_," she said, stressing the word she was quickly starting to hate, and continued grumbling in a low voice, "Hall closet, he says. Top shelf he says. Probably be as obvious as a geek at a Star Trek convention…"

Tony furrowed his brow, unsure of how to interpret that reference, and dropped his head back against the pillow Abby had arranged for him. Part of him wanted to get up and help her find the candles, but the rest of him knew Abby wouldn't appreciate his sentiment. Besides, if giving them light got her mind off worrying about him, even for a little while, he was more than willing to let it.

He closed his eyes, though it was hard to tell the difference in the pitch black darkness of the room, and listened to Abby's husky voice mumblings somewhere around the corner and gently and unexpectedly drifted back to sleep.

---

Abby wasn't the type to be easily bored. From a very young age she'd learned to entertain and take care of herself. It was only natural. An only child until she was ten, and the only hearing member of a deaf family, she just spent a lot of time on her own. She didn't usually mind it. Accepted it really with a kind of grace befitting of a six foot something computer loving eccentric.

The only problem was, she wasn't alone this time. Not really. Tony was there. And his intermittent shivering and shifting and all around sickieness was keeping her attention and making it impossible for her to focus on any other way of occupying her time.

She sat beside his prone form on the couch, repeatedly dabbing his too hot skin with a cool washcloth again as she silently recited the periodic table of elements to herself in hopes of keeping the 'worst case scenario' thoughts at bay. She was almost through the alkali earth metals when Tony started to stir again.

"Tony?" she questioned immediately, and then had to wait a few moments for him to open his eyes. Blinking slowly, he glanced around, gaining his bearings, and then looked at her.

"There he is," she couldn't help but smile at the sight of his clear-eyed gaze and quickly grabbed the washcloth out of the bowl to press it against his neck, "your fever was spiking again. I thought maybe..." she started off quietly and couldn't finish, dropping her gaze as if concentrating fully on her ministrations.

Tony closed his eyes briefly, relishing in the feel of the coolness against his skin. "Didn't mean to scare you," he said finally, but the effort it took to speak zapped his energy and he lay quiet for several minutes more.

Abby, could tell he wasn't sleeping by the way his jaw stayed tense, the muscles jumping beneath his skin. She wished he had a thermometer so she could know how bad off he was. But, then again, since there was no way to get him help, perhaps it was better she didn't know.

"I made soup. You hungry?"

Tony made a face as his stomach shifted uncomfortably at the very mention of food, "no."

"Ok," she nodded, expecting the answer. She traded the washcloth for a fresh glass of water on the table, complete with bendy straw (the man didn't have a thermometer but he had bendy straws? In three colors, no less). "Here. Drink." She said, proffering him the cup.

Tony opened one eye at the water, and then both at Abby, "if I'm not hungry, what makes you think I'll be thirsty?" he snapped somewhat edgily, exhaustion and constant pain taking their toll.

Abby gave him a somewhat surprised look. "Snippy," she raised an eyebrow and he had the grace to look apologetic, "And it wasn't a question."

She waited, the bendy straw still hovering mere inches from Tony's lips.

He tried briefly to stare her down, but she kept turning into her own twin and getting blurry around the edges so he gave up, "that was very Gibbs of you," he grumbled and begrudgingly accepted the straw.

"Speaking of, the power is out," she reminded him.

He took exactly three and a half sips and then sat back, his eyes falling shut once again. "I noticed, what has it got to do with Gibbs?"

Abby turned to put the glass on the table, seemingly satisfied that the meager water consumption was all she would get from him, "we missed our 1800 check in," she glanced at Tony's laptop sitting blank and powerless on the table a few feet away. She hadn't been able to find the power cord and she forgot to turn it off for him when Tony's fever had gotten the better of him earlier.

Tony's eyes popped open, though from the news or from realizing how long he'd been sleeping, Abby wasn't sure. "Well that's not good."

She shook her head, "nope." She looked at him and noticed he was looking a bit more alert and reached out experimentally to touch his forehead. She nodded when the feel of his skin did not immediately bring up images of a slow moving river of lava from a recently exploded volcano, "your fever's gone down a bit."

He nodded, but didn't speak, so Abby looked away again.

"You're gonna be okay, Tony. Right?"

Tony turned slightly to look at her, but she wasn't looking back. She was perched on the edge of the couch beside him, staring down at her bare feet and biting her lip again.

He understood what she wanted without her coming right out and telling him. He'd been asleep and, as far as he knew, unresponsive, for hours at least. Coughing and struggling for every breath. It would have been terrible for her.

She just needed to hear him say it. She probably wouldn't believe him. But to hear the words would do her good.

"Yeah, Abbs," he said, trying to come across as strong and confident and unsure if he succeeded, "I'll be fine."

A small smile cracked her lips and she turned to look at him, the light of dozens of candles bouncing across her childlike face, "okay, Mr. Fine…you wanna play cards?"

He grinned as best he could, "sure. But the only game I know is strip poker."

Abby rolled her eyes and went to retrieve the deck of cards from the poker kit on the kitchen counter, "not interested, DiNozzo, I've seen everything you've got. Regular poker will suit me just fine," she jibbed.

"Oh really? And when did you go on this privileged tour of DiNozzotopia?"

Abby arched an elegant eyebrow as she returned to his side and helped Tony sit up, "you were asleep for over four hours, Tony."

Tony started to laugh, thought better of it, and then turned to her, his expression falling slightly, "seriously?"

Abby didn't respond, instead focused on shuffling and dealing the cards, an infuriating little smirk planted firmly on her lips.

"Abby, you wouldn't...didn't."

She finally looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "Texas Hold em' or Seven Card Stud?"

_TBC  
_


	6. Don't You Dare, Tony

**A/N**: I'm back!! Omg. Been a while. lol. Anyway, this chap is pretty much entirely from Abby's side because...well it just worked. You'll see what I mean. Btw, Abby has a dirty mouth in this chap, mostly because I believe that when panic sets in, coherent thought steps out and with it, intelligent speech. So anyway, enjoy! -pj

* * *

Abby didn't realize she'd fallen asleep until she awoke again. She found herself in a heap on the floor (she did remember sitting there while playing cards) her head propped against the couch, squished in between the coffee table and the couch. She rubbed her eyes to clear them; the candles had burned down quite a bit and the light they provided was minimal.

She quickly recognized what it was that had woken her – Tony. He was coughing again, but this time was different. Different than before when he just cleared the liquid coughs and kept talking, different than the shallow, dry ones that plagued him during the worst of the fever. She'd only heard these coughs once before, and she didn't have an oxygen mask to give him when it was over this time.

He was wide awake and his lips were turning blue, she could see that even in the low light provided by the candles, and the panic was clear in his eyes. She leapt to her feet, almost tumbling a candle to its side as her face paled.

"Tony," she said, not expecting him to answer. She reached out and helped him sit up, pulling him upward and propping several pillows behind him, but it didn't help. He gasped for air, only to have it robbed again by his traitorous lungs and she tasted blood in her mouth from her chewed lip. "Oh God," she muttered, "we have to get to a hospital."

"'o Ab's," Tony tried, "'now."

"I don't care about the snow, Tony," she practically screamed, "I'm not gonna let you fucking die!" She searched frantically for her keys in her purse, but Tony's pathetic, desperate coughs echoed in her ears and her hands shook so badly she couldn't get a hold of them.

"Fuck," she cursed again, and turned the black bag upside down so everything tumbled out across the counter and to the floor. She snatched her keys from beneath her checkbook and pushed the rest aside in search of her phone.

"'bbs."

Her head snapped up at the sound of her name and she crossed the room to him in three strides.

"Damn Tony," she said, unaware of herself speaking, and reached for the cloth that was now soaked in lukewarm water. She wiped it across his forehead and hair, where he'd worked up a sweat in his attempt to fight for air.

"You're not allowed to die, okay?" she talked over his coughing and swallowed hard, her mouth completely dry, "Gibbs would kick your ass and I would-" she broke off because her voice was not cooperating. Seeing that she was really not helping very much, she stood and dropped the cloth back into the water.

She was frozen for a moment, caught between adrenalin-fueled action and terrified inaction. Clenching her shaking fists, she forced a breath into her chest and quickly moved passed him to take a glance outside.

She cursed again, this time under her breath. It was still a white-out. There was a layer of frost forming around the edges of the window and more than eight inches of snow had accumulated on the tiny ledge.

She turned back to face the apartment and spotted a coat and hat on a hook near the door.

"Okay," she ran across the room and retrieved the items and returned to Tony while pulling on her own. If ever a man looked miserable, it was Tony DiNozzo in that moment. His face had lost almost all color, save the dark bags beneath his eyes and the blue around his lips and the knit cap covered all his sweaty hair. He looked exhausted and scared and there was nothing she could do for him.

Not here.

"Fuck Tony," she whispered, _don't do this to me._ _She pulled_ pull the coat across his shoulders, knowing he wouldn't unwrap his arms from around himself long enough to put them through the sleeves.

"Okay, let's go," she said, bending to be at his level and trying to coax one of his arms around her neck, "and don't you dare pass out because I _cannot _carry you down those stairs by myself."

A series of answering coughs was the only response she received and she shuddered to feel the way his entire body convulsed with each hopeless wheeze.

He kept his feet under him for a good three steps, but the change in altitude coupled with an oxygen depleted system, a high fever and no energy quickly caught up with him and his knees buckled. His vision was blurry first and then what little light he could see reflecting around his sparsely decorated living room faded to black.

Abby gasped and her eyes squeezed shut, her teeth grinding with effort as she fought to keep them upright, but it was in vain. He outweighed her by nearly 150lbs and he was dead weight as he pulled them both to the floor.

"Tony Tony Tony," she breathed his name like a mantra as she slipped from his grip and laid him gently on the floor, "Tony are you with me? Tony!" her voice broke and she was unaware of the tears streaming down her face as he remained unresponsive to her voice, "please Tony. Please answer me."

Thinking quickly, she pulled the hat off his head and pulled his shirt open again, only to find he wasn't really that warm. She patted his cheek and called his name but Tony didn't stir. She was practically hysteric now, sobbing openly yet unaware of the sound of her cries as her frantic brain and shaking hands somehow acted of their own accord.

"Heartbeat," she pressed two fingers to his neck, "check. Breathing," she was pretty sure she knew the answer to this one but bent low to put her ear next to his mouth anyway, "no check. Okay." She turned and snatched her phone off the coffee table, momentarily forgetting there was no service, and tried to dial 9-1-1. "Shit," she muttered, when the call beeped cheerily and announced that the call did not go through, "shit shit shit," she threw the phone to one side and started biting her lip again, "Okay, rescue breathing."

She stripped her coat and pushed up her sleeves with more force than necessary, her motor control somewhat off now that her system was flooded with adrenaline.

"Tony don't take this the wrong way but," she reached out and gently tilted his head back to open the airway and pinched his nose shut, pushing two slow breaths of her own oxygen into his damaged lungs," she pulled back and counted to five in her head, quickly checking his pulse, "don't worry Tony, I recert in CPR and RB every year, even though it's," she pushed another breath into his chest, trying not to notice how impossibly cold his lips felt against hers, "it's only required every three years. And I know Gibbs is going to come," she gave him another breath of air and then continued to ramble as she pulled a blanket off the couch to wrap him in and bent low to his lips again, "Gibbs always comes, especially for you. You're his boy, Tony. Just breathe…"

Ten minutes later she'd stopped talking, trying hard not to let the exhaustion of breathing for two get to her. She took another deep breath and gave it to Tony, watching his chest to see it rise and checking his pulse to be sure it was still steady, even as her vision got blurry around the edges and she started to feel lightheaded.

Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe 'bad luck' _was_ contagious afterall…

She lost all track of how long she'd been there, but inwardly hoped it hadn't been too long. For Tony's sake. She was now struggling just to breathe for herself, and not to lean on Tony when she checked his pulse and breathing. Her muscles were twitchy and weak and she wasn't sure if the candles had burnt out or if her vision was just darker than before.

She mumbled groggily when hands tried to stop her from continuing Rescue Breathing, and struggled for a moment out of instinct.

"I've got him, Abby."

_Wait a second. Hands? _

She was too tired to open her eyes fully or even recognize the voice, but something in her trusted it so she allowed herself to be pushed to one side. She thought she heard a soft 'Oh Anthony' as his presence was shifted away from her. And that pulled her back into reality enough to recognize faces.

"Gibbs?" Strong hands took hers and pulled her to her feet and she watched as McGee, Ducky and Ziva helped Tony across the apartment and out the door.

"I'm here, Abby."

She heard his voice beside her and an invisible weight was lifted from her shoulders as she allowed him to guide them out of the apartment after the others.

"I knew you'd come, Gibbs," she mumbled, trying to make her feet work in a more cooperative manner, "told Tony you would kick his ass if he died before you got here."

"Damn straight."

_TBC  
_


	7. Angel with Broken Wings

**A/N**: I thought about ending this chap earlier, but then the title didn't make sense (and I really like the title) plus, if I had ended it before the last scene, you would have gotten absolutely ZERO new information, which is kind of appealing, so that brings me back to the title issue, lol. THANK YOU SO MUCH to the 29 people that reviewed the last chap, I think that's some kind of record! For me at least. And huge thanks to **_Susangel _**who basically inspired my little muse for this chapter. I love that everyone loved Gibbs coming to the rescue. But when it came right down to it, what else was I gonna do?? Really, I had no control over the matter, Gibbs just leveled one of those stares at me and I knew. He'd be there in time, no matter what I had to say about it. lol. Also, FYI, I think the next chap will be the last so, Enjoy! -pj

* * *

"McGee," Gibbs barked. He was pacing up and down the small space they'd been given as an office and living area, with Ziva watching him carefully from beneath dark eyelashes under the pretense of reading their finished report. The case had been a relatively neat wrap-up after coming on board. The XO had many enemies but some more violently inclined than others, and they were easily persuaded to tell the truth when Ziva and Gibbs made it clear they wanted off the ship asap and standing in the way of that could be detrimental to the suspect's physical well-being.

McGee kept his eyes glued to his laptop, shifting, though not nearly as uncomfortably as he used to, as his Boss' concern masked with irritation was thrown at him full force.

"No joy Boss," McGee said finally, pursing his lips as he glanced up at Gibbs, "still no response from Tony's computer."

"They would not intentionally miss a check in," Ziva pointed out, moving to stand with her hands on her hips, "perhaps they went to find Tony some real medical attention." She raised her eyebrows, urging Gibbs to hear her suggestion. He did not pause in his movements.

"What makes you think they needed a hospital," he growled, not looking at her.

"You're gut," she responded evenly. Almost defensively. He looked at her and could see the challenge in her eyes.

_Am I wrong? _

McGee watched the silent exchange with wide eyes. He waited, but Gibbs never protested Ziva's suggestion.

"Boss? You don't think…"

"No, I don't, McGee." With that he turned and left the room, leaving the junior agents to wonder at what would happen next.

---

Self preservation kept McGee and Ziva from questioning him when Gibbs came back twenty minutes later. His face was red, his jaw set and his teeth working hard beneath his skin.

"Get your gear," was all he said, his tone clipt and sharp enough to draw blood and deathly quiet so neither of them even thought to argue.

McGee and Ziva glanced at one another and started to move.

Where were they going? Where had Gibbs been? What about Tony? Their first instinct was to jump first and ask questions later, after all, where Gibbs went, his team followed. But they were also investigators and had been taught to question. Ziva and McGee opened their mouths, about to express these very questions when, feeling they were not moving fast enough, Gibbs turned a dark look on them both.

The fierce, icy look in his eyes rivaled the snow outside and the words died in their throats. Instead they quickly began breaking camp as ordered, hoping not to be left behind. But that didn't keep them both from silently musing to themselves.

McGee was not the most socially adept person, and Gibbs was not the easiest to read. But McGee knew what Gibbs wasn't saying right then. Regardless of the weather, or the not-quite-finished murder investigation, or anything anyone else might say, they were going for Tony. End of discussion.

Ziva held her duffle with a fist that was closed too tightly, her fingernails digging into the flesh of her palm, but she didn't notice. She blinked when they approached the flight deck. A thin coat of ice seemed to cover everything, but the wind had lessened and the clouds had stopped dropping snow, as if Mother Nature herself dared not defy Gibbs in this mood.

"The storm is all on land," McGee said from his position beside her, "they're getting the worst of it in DC now."

Ziva stared straight ahead and concentrated on keeping her footing on the slippery ground, her mouth too dry, and her throat too thick, to respond.

---

Gibbs had made a lot of enemies over the years. But he'd made a lot of friends too.

People he knew from his time in the Corps. People he knew through Shannon or his ex-wives. People who built boats, people he'd helped as an agent.

Some of these people owed him favors; many of them would help him just because it was him doing the asking.

And one of them owned a snow plow.

The cab smelled of an over-used heater on its last leg and week-old coffee, but no one made comment. The cab was silent as they plowed their way through the DC streets. Ducky had been apprised of the situation and the group and gone by his house on the way to Tony's, and now he was following behind them in their recently cleared wake.

Outside it looked like a snow globe had been turned on its head and gone nuclear, white covered everything with such thickness it was hard to recognize buildings from cars from garbage cans.

It wasn't until they were two blocks from Tony's place that someone spoke.

"The power is out," Ziva said, pushing forward in her seat to see further out the window past McGee.

"No power means no heat," McGee observed, his tone low and apprehensive, "it also explains why they didn't respond to my message alerts."

Gibbs didn't respond and Ziva and McGee, understanding that this new information could only mean bad things for their friends, added to the silence.

When they got to Tony's building Gibbs entered first with Ziva on his heels, leaving McGee to make sure Ducky got out and up to Tony's apartment alright. He didn't bother knocking when he got to the door, instead choosing to open it immediately with his spare key.

His gut was churning so intensely now it was on the brink of making him nauseous, but even with that fairly reliable warning, he was not prepared for what he saw when he flung the door open to Tony's apartment. His eyes swept across the large open space of Tony's kitchen and living room, falling to two prone figures on the floor near the couch, and in spite of himself, he froze.

Tony was still, far too still, his chest remarkably motionless. And beside him sat Abby, everything about her screaming exhaustion, from her wheezing breaths to her shaking limbs. But he only remained immobile for a moment, taking in the situation and moving on to a solution as quickly as possible. He crossed the room, having realized what Abby was doing and why, before Ducky and McGee had even made it up to Tony's apartment.

"Duck!," he called, hardly aware of the hint of panic in his voice. He hit his knees beside Abby, trying to disentangle her from around Tony so Ducky could do a proper examination. He grasped her small wrists, noting her skin was far paler than usual.

"I've got him Abbs," he assured her quietly when she fought him. She was disoriented and weak, but she seemed to understand because she stopped struggling and he turned his attention to Tony. His pulse was a little weaker than normal, but steady, his head wet with sweat and his face pale but cheeks flush with fever. He resumed the rescue breathing Abby had ceased while Ducky prepared the breathing bag and fitted it over Tony's mouth and nose.

"Oh Anthony," he said, and Gibbs didn't ask for clarification. He knew that tone, and it only made him that much more anxious to see Tony out the door and on his way to the hospital.

"McGee," Gibbs barked and Tim was immediately at his side, helping Ducky and Ziva as they tried to negotiate Tony's limp form out the door without ceasing the rescue breathing for too long at a time.

He turned back to Abby and found her eyes impossibly large and glassy.

"Gibbs," she squeaked. He didn't need clarification for that tone either. She had only said his name like that twice before. The first time was when he left for Mexico, his memory still resembling something of Swiss Cheese and she'd stared at him across the bullpen looking disbelieving and alone. The other time was when they'd watched Tony's car be blown to bits in MTAC and they had all, Gibbs included, been terrified that Ducky would not be able to prove the driver wasn't Tony.

It was her pleading voice. The scared one. The one that always broke his heart.

"C'mon," he said, pulling her to her feet and they started toward the door. She mumbled something about Tony not being allowed to die until he got there, and he responded with the only coherent thing he could think to say.

"Damn straight."

---

Abby was still. Motionless. And it made Gibbs' gut turn. Abby was never not moving. She was always active. Always talking, bouncing, tapping, dancing, swaying. Abby was art in motion. Abby did not do 'still'.

Yet, when Gibbs entered the ICU waiting room after receiving an update on Tony's condition, that was exactly what he saw.

They'd made the trip to the hospital from Tony's place in good time, all things considered. Ziva and McGee had driven the plow while Gibbs drove Ducky's car behind them, with Ducky and Abby tending to Tony in the back seat. They'd been able to bypass the zoo that was the ER because of Tony's preexisting condition and the fact that he was currently breathing only with the help of Ducky's balloon-like rescue breathing device.

The doctors had admitted Tony and immediately started him on oxygen and antibiotics to combat what they diagnosed as acute pneumonia attacking his chest, while they attempted to regulate his temperature and liquid intake and get a hold of Dr. Pitt. The team was huddled in a corner, strength in numbers per their routine, talking quietly to distract eachother or listening to Ducky's stories. Gibbs would usually have ordered them all home by now, but the storm made that impossible.

And then there was Abby. Who stood still and silent in front of the large picture windows on one wall of the waiting room that gave them all a front row view of the Jack Frost: Strike's Back encore showing outside.

He came to stand beside her, wordlessly reaching out to rub a hand across her shoulders, wishing to receive some sort of reaction to his presence.

"Abby, he's going to be okay," he said, sure it was what she needed to hear.

Abby nodded, the blank look still firmly planted on her face, "I know. He said he would be. And Tony is a lot of things, but he's not a liar," she said confidently, and then added a bit quieter, "not to me."

Gibbs nodded and turned so they were standing shoulder to shoulder, nearly touching.

"And I didn't spend nearly two days trying to keep him alive in an apartment stocked with nothing but old pizza and Bourbon just to have him die when he got proper medical care," the quiver in her voice made the bravado much less convincing and he looked at her reflection in the window.

"Did you know Tony talks in his sleep?" She said after a moment. Gibbs didn't respond. She wasn't really expecting him to and, besides, he did know that. He'd spent enough time with hurt, unconscious, fever-stricken Tony to know more than he ever wanted.

"He talks about everything. His father. His mother…he really loved his mother Gibbs. Like, a lot," she sniffed and balled her hands into fists, "and us. He talks about us to. McGee and Ziva and – and Kate, and Ducky and me and you. He talks about you a lot too. About wanting your approval and wishing to be more like you."

She turned slowly, never looking at him, and slid down the glass to sit on the floor and, after a moment, Gibbs joined her, feeling the prying gazes of the rest of the team but refusing to look.

"And listening to him talk it was-," she bit her lip and winced.

"What is it?" Gibbs asked, his brow furrowed as he turned to look closer at him.

Abby lifted a hand to her mouth and touched her lip. It was swollen and sore. She remembered tasting blood before, but she'd been so busy tending to Tony she hadn't had time to notice. It seemed as though she'd bitten right through.

Gibbs made eye contact with McGee and the young man nodded, standing and making his way over to the refreshment table on the opposite wall, getting ice for her.

"Thanks McGee," she said, trying to smile up at him when he handed the Styrofoam cup to her. She didn't hold his gaze long enough for it to really work, and instead turned to stare at the ice.

"Abbs."

Abby inhaled sharply. How she'd longed to hear that voice over he past few days. Now it was here. He was here, and somehow she still felt lost and scared. She wasn't sure what his saying her name that way was meant to make her do. Keep telling him about Tony? Make more of an effort for McGee? Put some ice on her lip?

She did none of these things. Instead she started to shake her head, and realized the rattling sound she was hearing was the ice knocking against itself in the cup. Her hands were shaking too.

Gibbs reached over and covered her hands with his, steadying them.

"He turned blue Gibbs," she whispered, "he stopped breathing." She started to bite her lip again but Gibbs stopped her, giving a pointed look at the ice instead.

Obediently, she slipped one of the cool chips into her mouth, rubbing it against her sore lip.

"Abby," he said again, his voice soft and gentle, "he's going to be fine."

Abby didn't want to question whether he was saying that just to comfort her, or if he really believed it. She didn't want to know if he was agreeing with the doctors or defying them with that assurance. She didn't want to think of how the word 'fine' had been one of the things to get them into this mess in the first place.

She didn't want any of it.

She just wanted Tony. Healthy and normal colored and mischievous and _alive_.

Gibbs remained silent beside her, and after a moment, Abby bent her head to rest against his shoulder.

"I know he'll be…fine, Gibbs," she said, pulling in a calming breath and squeezing his hand, "He has to. Or else _I'll_ be the one to kick his ass."

_TBC  
_


	8. Fine

**A/N**: ****I had to repost this chap, only changed two things and they're not important if you already read it, sorry for any confusion!****Okay, here is the last chap but I'd like to take this opportunity to say THANKS to anyone and everyone who has read this story and enjoyed it, but a very special thanks to those of you who read it, enjoyed it and REVIEWED it. That's really what makes my day. So here it is, the conclusion, Enjoy! -pj

* * *

The team lost track of how long they'd been waiting. They weren't entirely sure of what day it was, let alone what time. The snow outside made seeing the sun impossible and not even Gibbs had the presence of mind to look at his watch. McGee had used the payphone to call his sister to see how she was faring in the storm and later Ducky had called to check on the nurse who was with his mother. Gibbs remained vigil at Abby's side while her eyes remained glued to the doors that led to the ICU.

It was for that reason that Abby was the first to see a doctor approaching, even before Gibbs her hands pausing in their nervous picking at Tony's clothes that dwarfed her small frame.

As she approached through the large, mostly empty room the team's quiet chatter slowly died off until all five of them were silently staring, watching the doctor's move toward them but unable to say anything in greeting.

"I'm Dr. Gerard, Dr. Pitt wasn't able to make it in because of the weather but we've been on the phone with him throughout the process. He's taken a very personal interest in Mr. DiNozzo's case."

"Yes, how is young Anthony?" Ducky asked, much more politely expressing what the rest of the team was already thinking, which was something along the lines of 'we don't really care about that, tell us about Tony'.

"He's stable," she began, her eyes moving to each person in turn, "we're already seeing an improvement in his white blood cell count and are optimistic that he'll be breathing on his own by the end of the week."

Abby felt her chest tighten. The end of the week? That seemed like an exceptionally long time.

"But he had a very severe case of pneumonia aggravated by the weather and his preexisting lung condition so until then he'll be on bed rest, getting plenty of fluids and going through some therapeutic coughing and breathing exercises and-" Dr. Gerard continued, until McGee interrupted.

"We know the drill," he stopped her with a tone that was meant to be firm but came out slightly uneven. All of them, except Ziva, had been there when Tony had contracted the plague. They knew what to expect. The fever that went through the roof and made Tony delirious with pain and fatigue. The chest pain that told of lungs filled with suffocating liquid. The blue tinge on his fingernails and lips. The oxygen. The waiting. The coughing. The bad jokes whispered across quiet hospital rooms that did nothing to ease the tension.

Dr. Gerard made nothing of the interruption. Maybe Dr. Pitt really had filled her in.

"When can we see him?" Gibbs asked and all five sets of eyes turned to hear her response.

The doctor smiled, "well technically, only you and a 'Miss. Scuito' are allowed to see him in ICU as you're listed as next of kin, but," she continued quickly, seeing protest already breaking out across the faces of her rapt audience, "Brad seemed to think it would be best for Mr. DiNozzo to be with all of you tonight. And no one's going anywhere in this storm anyway. He's sleeping right now, but feel free to go in when you're ready. Room 306."

They nodded and mumbled their thanks before falling silent as the doctor turned and walked away. The fact was they were all torn between wanting to see Tony right in that moment, to know he was truly alright as the doctor said, and being fiercely aware of how affected by all of this Abby had been and that she needed to see Tony alive more than any of them.

Ducky, Tim and Ziva all turned to look at Gibbs and Gibbs looked at Abby. She pulled herself into reality long enough to realize they were all looking at her and shifted closer to Gibbs. She looked at him, the pleading written plainly in her eyes.

_I can't do this. Not yet._

"You three go first, we'll be in a minute," Gibbs said, and the other three nodded, making their way toward the doors in silence.

Gibbs waited until they had disappeared before turning to Abby. She didn't give him a chance to speak.

"I'll be okay Gibbs," she swallowed hard, looking uncertain, "I just need a minute."

She could feel Gibbs' eyes on her as she dropped her gaze, but didn't he press her and she was grateful he didn't call her bluff.

The minutes suddenly seemed to pass much faster and it seemed as though Tim, Ducky and Ziva had only just left when she saw they'd returned again.

Apparently a few nurses had decided it was urgent that they check on Tony's vitals and take a few more samples for tests, and had promptly kicked the three 'nonessentials' from the room, saying they could return again in a few minutes.

Ducky and McGee descended upon the coffee and were conspicuously silent after giving their explanation, as they sipped it. Ziva, with glassy eyes and red cheeks disappeared immediately into the bathroom to be alone.

Abby wasn't sure what to make of that. She was used to being the emotional one. The one hanging precariously on the edge of panic. But seeing her team that way? Seeing Ducky and Tim and Ziva like that? It scared her more than she'd thought possible after what she'd been through over the past few days.

Abby stopped suddenly. She and Gibbs were halfway down the hall, only a few steps from Tony's room and she realized she honestly did not remember ever having left the waiting room in the first place.

Gibbs turned back when he recognized she wasn't with him.

"I-I don't think I can go in there."

Gibbs tilted his head inquisitively, taking a small step back toward her.

"Gibbs," she said, her voice cracking slightly and wavering between 'upset' and 'almost hysterical', "I mean, did you see Tim and Ducky? They were practically catatonic. A-and Ziva? Ziva. The Mossad agent that could execute a hostile takeover _by herself…_she was a mess," she started shaking her head, her feet remaining firmly planted on the ground, moving neither forward nor backward.

"I just…I can't Gibbs. I can't go in there," she said, staring at her shoes.

Gibbs' silence grew deafening and, after a few moments, she lifted her gaze to his. The intense, sympathetic, determined look in his steely blue eyes almost broke her and her eyes welled up with tears.

He lifted one hand, held it out to her and waited to speak until she'd placed one of her shaking fists inside it.

"You will go in there, Abby," he said, though his gentle tone belied the directness of the order. Abby started to open her mouth but Gibbs cut her off, "you know why?"

She frowned slightly and shook her head.

"Two reasons. One," he narrowed his eyes, keeping his voice soft and low in a way he knew calmed her, "believe me when I say, you don't what the last image you have of Tony to be of him being unconscious and rushed into the ICU," her breath caught and he felt her hand unfurl inside his and return his grip twofold, "and two…because he's family, Abbs."

Abby blinked and felt tears run down her cheeks but she nodded, her decision made. With a nod, Gibbs pulled her in close to his side, so close the smell of gunpowder that lingered around them both intermingled.

Gibbs led Abby by the hand the rest of the way down the hallway. He paused and glanced back at Abby once he made it to Tony's door, but she was still with him, looking uncertain and fearful but with him all the same.

He pushed the door to Tony's room open and walked in, Abby lingering at the doorway and he let go to approach the bed.

Abby waited in the doorway, in far enough to see Tony's prone body looking too pale on the white sheets. There was an oxygen canula over his nose and rosy cheeks that indicated his fever was still present, while pale skin and sunken eyes told her he was still a long way to healthy.

She watched in fascination as Gibbs preformed a ritual she'd witnessed only a few times before.

He would walk over to the side of the bed and stand there for a while, staring at Tony, as if willing him awake. Then he would fuss over the pillow and blanket in such a fatherly way she sometimes had to avert her gaze. Then he would stare a bit more and probably touch his forehead or hand, needing physical contact with skin that was warm with life. Then he would pull up a chair and sit and she knew they wouldn't be able to get him out again until Tony was able to walk out with him.

"I can hear you staring, Boss," a raspy voice interrupted the silence and Abby jumped.

"You in there, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, bending lower to look at Tony's face.

"I can vouch for at least…80% of me," Tony continued talking without opening his eyes and missed a ghost of a smile that crossed Gibbs' face.

"That'll do for now."

Tony made some unintelligible response while Gibbs silently pulled up a chair, didn't sit in it. He turned and looked at Abby, who was standing at the foot of the bed with her arms wrapped around herself.

"I'm going to go tell the others that you're awake," he said, and then promptly exited the room, touching Abby's hand as he passed but never looking at her. Abby found herself staring after him.

"I'm going to need that shirt back."

Abby's head whipped back around.

"What?"

"My shirt," he intended to lift his arm to point, but ended up only being able to muster enough strength to lift a finger, "a friend got it made for me while I was in Seattle."

"Oh," Abby reached down and fingered the fabric. It was soft and it smelled like Tony. She'd grown rather attached to it.

Tony narrowed his eyes, aware of her unusual behavior but unsure of how to broach the subject, "I see you finally got me into the hospital."

"Yeah, just not exactly how I wanted. Unconscious in the back of an ME's station wagon."

"Better than in an ME's body bag." Tony popped off with the first thing that came to his head and instantly regretted it. Abby's eyes flickered with grief and her face hardened and in a single motion she'd turned and was leaving the room.

"Abbs. Abby, I'm sorry." He said, wishing to call her back. She stopped at his voice and, with her back to him, dropped her head into her hands, "Abby?"

"It's not funny Tony!" she turned around and he was surprised by the intensity of her voice. Wasn't ready to see her sobbing, gasping for breath, tearstained and red-faced, "You almost died. I almost lost you it's _not funny._"

Tony looked taken aback and Abby had to drop her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to compose herself.

"Abby I-"

"You're my best friend, you know that?" she asked quietly, looking at him again. He was glad she continued before he could answer because, honestly, he hadn't.

Seeming to sense his confusion she continued, "You're the one I talk to when I'm excited or nervous. You're one who gets all my obscure movie references. You're the one who I know I can tell about guy trouble without having to worry about said 'guy' later ending up on one of Ducky's tables," he thought she might tangent off into how she didn't usually date military guys so the comparison to 'Ducky's Tables' was really hyperbole, but she stayed uncharacteristically on task, "you're like a brother to me Tony."

She began taking long pauses between her sentences, staring directly into his eyes, clearly fighting to keep control of her voice, "and you being unconscious on the floor of your apartment. Not breathing. Turning blue while I try to keep you from being brain damaged," she swallowed hard, "is _not _fine, Anthony DiNozzo. Okay? Losing you is _not '_fine'_. _Not to me."

Tony wasn't sure what to say. He was weak as it was, his head pounding and his lungs aching, but he couldn't focus on any of that. Abby had never talked to him like this before. He knew they were close, heck the whole team was close but…she really meant it when she said they were family.

Maybe it was time he listened to her.

"C'mere," he said finally, turning his hand over so it was palm up.

Abby did as she was asked, approaching the bed so that she was standing beside it. He flicked his fingers impatiently and she relented, resting one of her cold hands inside his.

When he felt the weight of it in his palm he closed the fingers around it and tugged her toward him.

"Tony I-"

"You won't hurt me, Abbs," he assured her.

Abby looked at him skeptically for a moment so he tugged at her hand again, more urgently. This time she took the hint and climbed up onto the small bed beside him, situating herself so her head lay at the crook of his neck and shoulder, taking comfort in the feel of his heartbeat beneath her palm.

Tony wrapped his other arm around her and squeezed.

"I never meant to scare you, Abby," he whispered, and felt a dot of cold wetness soak into the material of his hospital gown and he swallowed hard, "and you're not going to lose me."

"Promise?"

He pursed his lips. Her voice was so small and fragile, all he wanted to do was say 'yes', he wanted to promise to always be there just like she wanted.

"You know I can't do that," he said, his voice hoarse.

She was quiet for a moment, but he could feel her fingers tapping on his chest and knew she hadn't fallen asleep.

"Promise to try?"

He smiled. Leave it to Abby.

"That I can do," he responded, allowing his eyes to close, finally feeling the aching in his chest let up, and something told him it was only partially due to the medication in his IV, "I promise to try."

She nodded and her eyes fell closed, her breathing evening out.

When Gibbs returned a few minutes later with the rest of the team, that was exactly how they found them, Abby curled into Tony's side, both sleeping soundly. Ziva, McGee and Ducky barely paused at the sight before taking up positions in chairs and sofas around the room, instantly making it feel smaller than it was, though no one even thought to complain.

Gibbs' took his seat in a chair beside the bed, keeping vigil over them all and assuring that none of them would be disturbed.

"Hey Gibbs."

He looked up to see Abby awake and looking at him, whispering so as not to disturb the sleeping people scattered about the room.

"Yeah?"

"I think," she paused, glancing up at Tony's sleeping face and then back at Gibbs, "I think he's gonna be just fine."

Gibbs couldn't help himself.

He smiled.

Outside dawn began to break. And for the first time in several days Washington DC saw the light of the sun.

_END  
_


End file.
